Booked For The Day
by Erratta
Summary: Danny comes up with a plan to pass English and heads into the Ghost Zone. Rated for murder, racism, dictatorship, violence, blood and gore, hostages, and all similar events found on high school reading lists. More funny than it sounds! ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

_I do not own Danny Phantom or any of the characters or props associated with the show. I'm not even trying to, so don't sue me. If you want the show (and are willing and able to continue it), please contact Butch Hartman and/or Nickelodeon Studios. I also do not own any book I use as material in this fic. This is a blanket disclaimer for all chapters, because I don't know how long this story's going to be or what's going to be in it._

_Warning: This fic will probably be somewhat educational, which should become obvious once you read this chapter. There will be a small amount of Danny/Sam and Tucker/random girl pairings. Just be warned, this is fluffy. Oh yes, if it's not obvious by now, when I get bored, I go crazy._

**1: Of Genius**

"Remind me again why we're doing this?" Sam Manson said as she watched the brightly coloured doors of the Ghost Zone speed by the windows of the Specter Speeder.

"Because this plan is sheer genius." Danny replied calmly, if somewhat tensely, his hands on the steering wheel.

"So, Lancer tells you that you have to repeat English if you fail the final exam in a week, and all of a sudden we're in the Ghost Zone?"

"Left at that green door, Danny." Tucker, Danny's best friend, had his legs up on the dashboard of the vehicle. He had taken over the map when Sam and Danny started bickering twenty minutes ago.

"Remember Christmas, Sam?"

"When you basically ruined everything out of anger and then brought it all back because you'd, and I quote, 'seen the error of your ways'?" Sam glowered at Danny.

"Yeah. I never told you guys this, but there was this ghost who I'd offended who can write people into stories and stuff, and he wrote me into this poem and made me do all that stuff to kind of teach me a lesson."

Sam groaned.

"Don't tell me. Now we're going to visit this ghost who you've gotten on the bad side of so he can help you pass an exam by writing us into a story. Does this strike anyone else as a really bad idea, or is it just me?"

"Just you," chimed both Danny and Tucker. Sam rolled her eyes, then turned to stare out the window again.

"Danny! Right!"

"Thanks! There it is, guys, that house floating up there." Danny pointed.

"Nice." Sam half-smiled approvingly. "If that's what he lives in, maybe he's not all bad." It was a dilapidated house like you'd see in an old horror movie. And it was purple. No wonder the goth liked it.

Danny pulled the Speeder up to the base of the steps, and the three friends climbed out. Danny went ghost and walked up the steps to knock. Before he could even raise his hand, the door creaked open on its own. Sam grinned.

"I love this guy."

A tall ghost floated in the doorway. A long threadbare purple coat hanging off him like a cloak accented his purple skin and the purple wire ovals around his green eyes. A blue-gray scarf was draped around his neck and hung down the front of a white shirt. Ragged gray pants and bare feet completed the appearance of a poverty-stricken writer. The Ghost Writer ran a hand through his tousled black hair as he looked at the three teenagers on his doorstep.

"Danny? I haven't seen you since Christmas. No more outbursts, I hope?"

"No." Danny sounded slightly embarrassed. "I really am sorry about your poem."

"Forgiven and forgotten, lad. To what do I owe the honour?"

"I'd like help with something, and you're the only person I can think of who can give it."

"What sort of help, Danny? I only use my powers for good, you know."

"This _is_ for good. Sort of. I need to pass my English exam or I fail the class, and I don't have time to read all the books that are on it."

"You'd like me to tutor you, is that it?"

"Basically, yes." Danny held out a list. The Ghost Writer took it and stroked his goatee thoughtfully.

"I think I can do better than just tutoring you, Daniel. May I ask why you brought your friends?"

"Umm, actually, they're kinda backup, in case you were mad at me."

"WHAT!" Tucker obviously didn't take this well. "I'm ... Oof! Sam, why'd you ... hrgh." Sam had slapped her hand over his mouth.

"What do you mean by doing better?"

"After you destroyed my last keyboard, I happened to come by a new one, with advanced capabilities. In other words, I can send you into stories that have already been written, rather than stories that I write myself, if I choose." The Ghost Writer spun in midair, summoning the computer.

"So we'll actually be a part of the story?"

"We? Ooooh!" Tucker clutched his foot, glaring at Sam, who was looking at the walls of bookshelves. Whistling softly.

"Yes, right in the thick of things." The Ghost Writer was blissfully ignoring the violence in the background.

"We can do that, right guys? Okay, just put us in for the important stuff."

"It's all important."

"You know what I mean. Just enough so I can pass?"

"Very well. If you would be so kind as to stand over there..." A purple mist swirled around them.


	2. Chapter 2

**2: Of Vikings**

_See previous warning and disclaimers. And in case anyone's wondering why the Ghost Writer isn't in jail, it's because he wrote himself out. Let's see Walker stop that one!_

Danny Fenton and his two friends were standing on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea. A mass of sharp pointed rocks lay at the bottom and indigo waves were crashing against the bottom. There was a sort of shallow beach off to one side, and a path leading down the cliff face to it.

"Man, I can't believe he actually agreed. He must really like you, Danny."

"Quiet. Let's try to figure out where we are."

"How are we going to do that if your ghost friend has the booklist?"

"Sam's read the whole thing. Any idea where we are, Sam?"

"Half the books on the list involve water. How am I supposed to know which one this is?"

"D-d-does that help?" Tucker grabbed Danny and tried to use him as a shield, pointing towards a very large man in chainmail riding towards them on a very large horse carrying a very large and nasty looking spear.

"Hail, visitors to our land! What adventure has brought you to the land of Hrothgar Healfdane?"

"Ah, _Beowulf_."

"Huh?"

"Epic poem. Old English. Monsters. Vikings. Lots of fighting."

"Beowulf hath brought you to Denmark? But he is the Prince of the Geats and lives across the whale-road. We have never set eyes on him here." The guard, if that was what he was, looked puzzled. Sam pointed out to sea.

"Good friend, we but bring tidings of his arrival. Lo, for his ships are seen on the horizon e'en now." Danny gave Sam an odd look. Where on earth had she learned to speak like that? At least the guard seemed to understand her.

"I shall alert the king of his arrival. Wouldst thou join us at Heorot?"

"We must stay and await our lord, good sir."

"Fare thee well, then, strangers." The guard nodded and rode off.

"Why'd you tell him that, Sam? I wanted to go to the castle." Tucker flopped down on the grass and pulled out a PDA.

"It's a mead hall, Tucker. They haven't invented castles yet." Sam said, annoyed. "And we'll be going there anyway when that ship docks."

"Seriously, Sam, what's the point of waiting for that ship?" Danny couldn't understand the point of sticking around for Vikings.

"If we stay here you're going to get to see the main character close up. And it gives us the added bonus of actually looking like we belong with him, in case anyone gets suspicious."

"Fine. But isn't he going to notice we're kind of teenagers and not huge guys in armor?" Danny looked worried, despite being half-ghost and therefore practically invincible.

"Point. We'll get a better reception if we're with him, though."

"How do you know?"

"I read the poem and paid attention in class, _unlike some people_. He's this really big hero with a great reputation, and he's coming here to kill the monster that's terrorizing the kingdom. Everybody loves him," Sam said, raising her eyebrows. "Wow, that was fast."

Another horseman was riding towards them. He gave a brief nod before heading down the path to the beach, where the first of the ships had already landed. Sam motioned for the three of them to follow.

By the time the friends had reached the bottom of path and hidden themselves behind one of the many rocks at the base of the cliffs, the man with the horse had finished welcoming the men with the boat, particularly a youthful blonde man with an elaborate helmet in his arms, a scarily large sword at his side, and more muscles than Danny had ever seen.

"That's Dash, isn't it?"

"No, Danny. That's Beowulf, the hero."

"Hate to say this, Sam," quavered Tucker, "but that looks a lot like Dash."

"Tucker, Danny's friend is probably just building off our memories or something." Sam was met with two blank stares. She sighed, and translated. "He just looks like Dash because that's the closest thing we know."

"Can't we just call him the Ghost Writer?"

"Who? Beowulf?"

"No, the guy who's doing me the favour."

"Fine. Now, are we going to follow them or not?" The Vikings were being led past their hiding place. The three teens snuck out behind them and followed cautiously.

_Geez, does anyone in this story _not _carry a really big weapon?_ thought Danny. _Why did Sam just poke me?_ Danny turned to look at her.

"They're going to get on horses for the trip to the hall. We won't be able to keep up on foot."

Danny nodded. He grabbed his friends' wrists, turning them invisible. Then he made a small jump and they rose into the sky. Once they were flying smoothly above the convoy of horsemen, Danny had a chance to look around. The first thing he noticed was the lack of buildings. There were a lot of gently rolling hills and some forests off in the distance. The only sign of civilization was the path, and a building up on the highest hill shining in the afternoon sun. _That must be Heorot, the, what did Sam call it, the "mead hall"?_

Danny was enjoying the flight. The air was completely free of pollution and the breeze was fresher than he'd ever smelled. A scent of clover and grasses wafted over him, and he inhaled. Then he started coughing and almost let go of Tucker.

"Woah, dude, you okay?"

"Hrack! Yeah I, ugh, kind of, eyech, inhaled a bug."

"Eww. You _sure_ you're okay?"

"I know we all feel really sad for the bug, but I really think you should take at look at the setting before we phase through it."

The mead hall was as tall as Danny's house, and about as long as the football field. It was made of wooden planking, ornately carved at the edges. The trees must have been enormous. Several much smaller buildings were scattered around it, and all showed extensive signs of damage and repair, including the mead hall itself.

"Why is there grass on the roof?"

"That's called _thatch_, Tucker. It's what they used before they knew how to make anything fancier."

Danny paused above the entrance, and they watched as the horsemen, led by Dash, dismounted and entered the hall. Danny phased his friends through the wall, and stopped dead. The interior of the hall was elaborately carved and outlined in gold. Around the edges of the hall were plank tables and benches. In the center was a fire pit half the length of the hall, on which several very large animals were being roasted on spits. One of the tables at the far end of the hall had been moved off to the side, and an aging man wrapped in fur was standing in front of a throne.

"Um, Danny, love the moment, but could you maybe set us down? It's starting to hurt."

"Oh, sorry." Danny let himself drift down into a corner, and let go of his friends. They became visible again.

Beowulf had entered the hall and was walking purposefully towards the man with the throne. After a lot of ceremony and language that Danny couldn't quite understand, the other Vikings who had arrived on the ship were led into the hall. Servants appeared with pitchers to fill the goblets set on the tables, and soon there was the loud uproar of a party.

"Look at all that _meat_. Wonder if I can just stay here while you guys go on to the next book." Tucker started drooling. "Hey, Danny, d'y'think you could go invisible and grab me some? It looks _good_."

"And while you're at it, _try_ to find me some vegetables. Not that they know what those are, of course."

Danny returned several minutes later with a platter of meat.

"Sorry, Sam, no vegetables. — Tucker, hands off! I get some too, you know. — I did get you bread, though. You could go outside and make a turfwich if you want."

"Jus bread's fine. Too much hassle getting outside. You might miss something." Sam took the bread and broke off a piece. "Hmm, not bad."

They sat in the dark corner and watched the scene for a few minutes. A lot of Beowulf's men had gotten drunk, but Beowulf himself was barely touching his drink. _Smart_, thought Danny, _he'll be conscious for the fight._

The hall fell silent as the king stood up, and announced a gift giving ceremony. Danny snickered.

"You have _got _to be kidding me!"

"It's how they kept their people loyal. I give you gifts, you help me out in battle."

"Would you look at that babe!" Tucker had noticed a young woman in a simple white gown standing near them at the back of hall. "Ow!"

"She's the princess. _Those_," Sam pointed to two burly men with pikes, "are the king's bodyguards. She's getting married in a couple months. Hands off. Watch the guys in the leather."

Tucker fell silent again, but kept looking at the girl. The ceremony ended, there was an argument between Beowulf and a guy at the head table about who was braver, and a guy with a harp sang a really long song about a battle, which Danny tuned out. Then the tables were moved against the walls so the king's guests could lie down. Danny, Tucker, and Sam nodded off as well, despite their best efforts.

---

Danny woke up suddenly to a crash outside. In the moment it took him to get his bearings, the door exploded inwards and something the height of the hall stomped inside. It reached down and grabbed a sleeping man. Danny watched in horror as the man was consumed by the monster before he even woke up.

"Grendel." Sam was awake and at his side.

"Those people... in danger ..." Danny turned from Fenton to Phantom and flew determinedly towards the troll.

"Danny, it won't work! He can't be hurt! He's not a ghost!"

But Danny wasn't listening as he shot ectoblast after ectoblast and they just glanced off the monster's body. Grendel roared at the flashes of light in the darkness. The men in the hall woke up at the noise, unsheathing their swords and finding their quivers. Danny was forced to go intangible at the rain of arrows that followed, and watched as the men's swords actually broke against the force field or whatever the monster was using. He spotted Beowulf's blonde hair running towards the melee and watched as the man tackled and pinned the giant to the floor. The rest of Beowulf's men ran out of the way as the hero and the monster began to wrestle along the length of the hall. Danny flew back down to Sam and Tucker in their corner, panting, eyes wide with horror.

"Didn't you say this was a _poem_?"

"It's an epic poem. There's always got to be a battle. This is only the first one."

"You mean we have to watch more of this!" Danny made the trio intangible as a beam from the ceiling was shaken loose by the stress of the fighting and crashed to the floor.

"Man, if this goes on every night, no wonder the place looks so beat up. You'd think they'd use steel supports or something."

"This is the Iron Age, Tucker. Iron's precious, and better used for weapons. They don't even know _how_ to make steel. Wood's the easiest material to get and use, and it works for pretty much anything. Except a demon attack."

There was a piercing scream of agony and the building stopped shaking. Grendel was out the door and limping before this could be taken in, and a blood-covered Beowulf staggered to the front of the hall to face its remaining occupants. He raised an arm as tall as himself over his head and yelled in triumph. His men yelled back.

Hrothgar, the king, appeared in the doorway and began a speech of gratitude.

"Mind telling me what we're up against here, Sam? What happens now?"

"Grendel's mom comes back for revenge. Beowulf goes after her, kills her, goes home, becomes king there eventually. Years later he goes out to fight a dragon and ends up dying."

"We're going to have to watch all that?"

"I hope not. Lancer only assigned up to this point."

"And you know the rest how?"

One of the men standing near Danny turned to face him. He had the Ghost Writer's face.

"Time to go..."

A purple fog engulfed them once again.

_Please review, so I know how I did with my first book! Next up: _Frankenstein


	3. Chapter 3

**3. Of Resurrection**

_See warning and disclaimer attached to Chapter 1. Things are looking darker, but there's no actual violence in this chapter..._

They were standing on a cobblestone street lined with old-fashioned buildings. It was late at night, and a cloud was covering the sliver of moon in the sky, creating long, dark shadows all along the road. It felt like they had stepped into a black-and-white horror movie, except that everything was in colour.

"So, still think this is 'sheer genius,' Danny?" asked Sam.

"Of course."

"Really?"

"Pretty much. It's nothing ghost powers can't handle."

"How about you don't just start randomly attacking monsters from now on? Let the characters handle it."

"Okay. So, any clue where we are this time?"

"Nope. But I like it a lot!"

"You _would._"

A man wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a travelling cloak bumped into them at that moment, muttered an apology, and continued hurriedly forward. He froze and turned around slowly.

"Children? You should know better than to be outside at this hour. Where are your parents?" The man sounded nervous and worried, and had a slight European accent. This time it was Danny who answered.

"We're lost?"

The man smiled softly.

"Well, we shall just have to find you again, then. Why not you come back to my home and wait out the night there. I am certain your parents will not mind you staying with me. My family has a good reputation in Geneva."

Sam stiffened a little at the mention of their location, but regained her composure.

"Thank you very much for your offer. We are glad of your hospitality." She motioned for Danny and Tucker to follow her. The four of them walked in silence for about ten minutes, with the man glancing over his shoulder and into shadows the entire time. Eventually they came to a house out of which spilled warm light. Once inside, the man motioned them up into a parlour and told a servant to fetch drinks for his guests. He cleared his throat.

"I'm terribly sorry. I don't believe I've introduced myself. My name is Victor Frankenstein. And you would be...?"

"Danny...erm, Daniel... Fenton." _Frankenstein, as in the big lumbering monster?_

"Samantha Manson." _Yep, thought it was him. Man, the guy's more paranoid than I thought._

"Tucker Foley. Why are you so nervous, sir? Is someone after you? Ow, Sam!" _Why are those two so nervous all of a sudden? Wait a minute, he didn't just say _Frankenstein_, did he?_

"As a matter of fact, yes, but I would rather not talk about it. Especially to people of such tender age as you three."

"That's all right, sir," piped up Sam, with a show of eagerness, "Danny's parents are interested in ghosts. Not much could be scarier than that!"

Tucker coughed violently.

"Sorry. Choked?"

"Ghosts? I hope you have not met any?"

"No bad ones, sir."

"I am glad to hear it. Well, I suppose with that background, you ought to be able to handle my story. Ah, good, here are the drinks." He handed mugs of warm milk to the three teens, then settle back into a high-backed leather-covered armchair.

"I am a scientist by nature and by profession, specializing in natural philosophy."

"Biology," Sam translated for Danny.

"I learned of an old theory regarding the reanimation of living tissue while studying in Ingolstadt, and became obsessed with testing it. I am ashamed to say that I resorted to looting graves for the, er, materials I needed. I didn't eat, I didn't sleep, and I neglected all other studies. One night, this would have been about ten years ago, I succeeded in animating what I had hoped would be the perfect being. Unfortunately, it turned out to be a horrible monster, and I fled. I doubt you can blame me."

The three teenagers shook their heads violently.

"I saw neither hide nor hair of the creature for about five years. Then I was called home by my brother's murder, and realized that the Monster had done it. I fled to the Alps to find peace again, but was chased to the top of Mount Blanc by my creation, who then demanded that I make him a bride. In my terror, I agreed, and spent a year in England working on her.

"Just before I finished, I realized that this new creature would have the same destructive force as the old one. I could not in good conscience unleash her on the world, and so I stopped the project. The Monster did not understand my reasons for this, unfortunately, and swore revenge. Thinking he aimed to kill me, I returned here to marry my childhood sweetheart before I lost the chance. She knew the risks." Frankenstein stopped, his voice tense, trying to hold back tears.

"On my wedding night, I heard a noise outside, and, concluding it was the Monster, prepared to face my death. However, he had climbed through the window while I was out of the room and killed Elizabeth instead." He dissolved into tears. The loss had obviously hurt him hard. Amid sobs, he continued.

"Elizabeth had been very close to my family, and her death killed my father. I had lost too many people in my life, and swore a revenge of my own. I leave in a few days to track him down. I cannot let him continue this slaughter any longer. I must undo my own work." Frankenstein's final words were tinged with hate and anger.

"I'm sorry," said Danny, trying to ease the man's pain. "I can't imagine losing everyone I care about like that. It must be awful."

Frankenstein nodded, dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief.

"It is because of the Monster that you should be indoors at this time of night. There is no knowing what he would do if he saw you." He rang a bell above the fireplace.

_And so you bring us into the home of his sworn enemy. Great idea, dude._ Danny was starting to get relatively nervous. He doubted even ghost powers would work on what was basically a zombie.

"Hans, thank you, would you be so good as to prepare beds for our guests?" The man who had just appeared in the doorway bowed and left.

Frankenstein asked Danny several questions about ghosts before they parted ways for the night. Once they were in their room, Danny sighed.

"That wasn't scary. That was just really really depressing."

"I always thought he was supposed to be some mad scientist. And I thought the Monster was called Frankenstein, not the dude."

"That's just the movies, Tucker. It's scarier that way."

"Oh."

"We should probably try to get some sleep, guys. I have plans for tomorrow, if the Ghost Writer doesn't pull us out of the story."

"What sort of plans?" The way Sam had made the announcement had made Tucker very nervous. Whatever was going to happen was not going to turn out well. He could tell.

"Just wait and see."

"Sam!"

"Nighty-night!"

---

The next morning they took their leave of Victor Frankenstein, explaining that their parents did not live that far away, and that they had simply gotten disoriented last night. As they were heading down the cobbled street, Tucker started showing his nerves again.

"So, what are these plans?"

"We're going to find the Monster."

"WHAT!" shouted Danny and Tucker in unison. "ARE YOU CRAZY!"

"Hello? Goth!" Sam pointed as herself. "You just have to know how to handle him. From the book, I think he's actually a pretty nice guy."

"Who kills people," muttered Tucker.

They found the Monster's tracks in a forest at the edge of the city. By then, they had been walking for several hours, and were getting tired. Sam urged the boys forward, reminding them that this was a valuable opportunity that could be interrupted by the Ghost Writer at any moment. Suddenly Danny stopped dead.

"Guys? I just realized we're probably not going to be able to track him down like this. He'll see us, and just run away. We're going invisible." Danny grabbed their wrists and used the power. They continued forward, following the broad path the Monster had left behind him. Tucker was getting steadily more nervous, and had pulled out a PDA to calm his nerves. Suddenly it fell to the ground with a clatter.

"I-I-I think we f-found him..."

A large-boned man lay in a ticket about ten feet in front of them. His clothes were in rags and practically hung off his body in strips. His skin had a sickly greenish-yellow tinge to it, as if it had been decomposing before coming to life. The man's body appeared to be made entirely of muscle, and his feet were bare. At the sound of Tucker's voice, he stirred. Then he stood up. He was at least seven feet tall, maybe more.

_He looks a lot like Skulker_, thought Danny.

"Who goes there? What do you want of me?"

Danny had let go of his friends, letting them become visible again. He stepped forward.

"We are friends. We do not wish to harm you."

"Lies! There is no one who does not wish to harm me. I have been pursued for years. The only person who hasn't chased me yet is the coward, Frankenstein."

"We are unarmed, sir. We come merely to hear your story. Who are you? Where are you from?"

"You wish to hear of my excuse for a _life_? Very well, since I have not spoken to friends for many years, and I do not expect anyone to attack me for a few more days, once they have the weapons." The Monster sat against a tree trunk and gestured to his guests to do the same. They did, and he began.

"The first thing I remember is pain, and a curious sensation of awakening from a great rest. I was strapped to a table in an attic room, and a man was in front of me, his face illuminated in the moonlight. I made a motion to loosen the straps, and he ran. I did not understand why. When I managed to free myself, I left the building and wandered aimlessly for many days, seeking friends. I lived on what I could catch and eat, and lived exposed to the elements. It was a hard life. The few people I encountered ran off or attacked me. I was not aware that my appearance was hideous. The fear they showed hurt me.

"I eventually came to a small cottage in a meadow. I made myself a home in the shed there, and listened to the pleasant, happy family who owned it. I learned to speak, I learned to read, and I learned of the world. I realized that I was different from these people, not only in my appearance, but also in the manner of my birth and in my isolation. I began to consider them my friends, though I had never met them. After several years, I felt prepared to introduce myself. When I did, they were as afraid of me as everyone else, and I began to blame my creator for my existence.

"I tracked Frankenstein to Geneva, where I met a boy in forest near here. I hoped to take him with me for companionship, but found an opportunity when I learned that he was the brother to my creator. I killed him to avenge my life. I found a locket on him, with the portrait of a beautiful woman, and I took it when I left. Soon after, I found a young woman in a glade, and left it with her, as a token of her beauty. I later learned that it was taken as proof that she killed the boy, and that she was executed. I remained in the forest, hiding.

"Several weeks later, Frankenstein appeared and I confronted him. He fled from me, and I left the area as well. I encountered him again in a few weeks' time on a glacier in the Alps, and told him of my life to that point. I explained my loneliness and told him that I would forgo my revenge on him in return for a companion like myself. He agreed, and began his work. The hypocrite broke his promise to me at the last moment, and destroyed my bride. In turn, I vowed to take my revenge at his wedding night, then killed a close friend of his who I meet in Scotland. Then I followed Frankenstein to Geneva.

"I waited patiently until the night of his wedding. I crept up the side of the building he and his wife were staying in and into their room. The woman saw me, but before she could scream, I had my hands around her throat. I left when she stopped moving. That was six months ago now. I left here for a while, but my journeys have brought me back.

"And there you have my tale of loneliness and hatred. I will have my revenge on Frankenstein, even if I have to chase him to the ends of the Earth. His irresponsibility has ruined what chance I had of happiness and normalcy, and he will pay for it." The last few words came out in the growl. The three teenagers, who had been amazed by the calm and well-spoken demeanour of the Monster, began to feel nervous again. They began to talk over each other in an effort to calm him down again.

"He really shouldn't have done that to you."

"Imagine running away from you. Unthinkable!"

"You seem like a very nice Mon- person."

When they had stopped, Sam cleared her throat and stood up.

"Thank you for your time, sir. Your life story is very tragic and I know you will get revenge some day. You might like to know that we overheard Mr. Frankenstein mention the other day that he had sworn revenge upon you as well, and that he will be leaving any day now to pursue you."

"That is glad news, child. The coward is finally coming to face me. Well, I shall be ready. Thank you for the companionship. It was very welcome."

"Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

Danny, Sam, and Tucker left the clearing and began to head back towards Geneva. After they had walked for a while, the air of gloom that had come over them while listening to the Monster began to lift, and they spoke again.

"Why didn't he have knobs on his neck like in the movies? I thought he was brought to life by lightning."

"It never says how he came to life in the book. I guess it must have been something else."

"Like what?"

"Beats me. Bet Vlad knows."

"Y'know, this story's more of a tragedy than a horror story, isn't it? His life is just as pathetic as Frankenstein's."

"On the outside, yeah, it is. But when you think about it, bringing people back to life and then having them kill people, that's pretty creepy."

"I guess so."

They had reached the edges of the forest. A man was gathering wood ahead of him. He turned towards them, and they saw the face of the Ghost Writer again.

"Time to go..."

They were surrounded by a purple haze.

_If you think there's a lot of summary as dialogue in this chapter, try reading the book. The Monster's story, for instance, goes on for several chapters, in pretty explicit detail. Frankenstein himself, of course, takes up most of the book with a lot of angsty melodrama and description of nature. Think I did rather well, all things considered. Please review._


	4. Chapter 4

**4. Of Witches**

_Thanks to ghoulghast, my faithful reviewer! Disclaimers and warnings as per usual. Hopefully a little lighter this chapter, though I don't think it's my best. Review anyway, please._

The midmorning sun shone through the canopy of a forest composed mainly of oak, maple, and pine. The air was crisp and clear, and already warm. It was summer. Birds and insects flitted around three young teenagers who had suddenly appeared in a clearing. They looked around, disoriented, and began talking quietly to each other. Suddenly the peaceful scene was shattered by a piercing scream and a rain of arrows aimed at the newcomers. The pale boy in the middle of the group placed his hands on the shoulders of his companions, and the group began to make their way across the clearing. The arrows went through them. When the teens had made it to the other side of the clearing and were safely surrounded by trees, they vanished into thin air.

The young girl who had been collecting firewood and climbed a tree when she heard the Indians nearby gasped, descended, and ran at full speed towards her home.

---

Danny, Sam, and Tucker ran, invisible, until they reached the center of a nearby village. They paused for a moment, panting, not even taking in their surroundings. Then Danny broke contact, and the three friends reappeared to the naked eye.

"I didn't think we had to read any books with Indians."

"First Americans. Indians are from India."

"Whatever."

"We didn't, but I think I know where we are anywhere. And I think we're in trouble if I'm right."

"Why?"

Sam pointed forward to where crowds of people dressed in black were staring at them. A tall, graying man stepped forward, brandishing a wooden cross.

"Be gone, vile creatures of the night! Your cunning can have no sway over true believers!"

"Um, Sam?" _Isn't that Vlad?_

"Don't say anything. They'll try to use it against us."

"Ummm, okay ..."

"Back, fiends!"

"We're not witches, sir. There's been a misunderstanding."

"Yeah, we're ghosts!"

"Tucker! Do you ever listen?"

"You are no ghosts! Only witches and demons, trying to subvert our faith. Take them to the jail."

Several men, clad identically to the other men in the crowd, stepped forward and clapped shackles on the teens. They were led to a wooden building and thrown into separate cells. Once their captors had left, Danny spoke up.

"Okay, Sam, start explaining things _fast_."

"We're in _The Crucible_. Salem Witch Trials. Our little appearing act seems to have made them think we're witches too. We're going to be put on trial, and it's kinda going to be hard to defend ourselves, so we'd better hope the Ghost Writer pulls us out before we get hung."

"Why's it going to be hard?"

"We're three teenagers. We very obviously have special abilities and some _genius_ decided to tell everyone we're ghosts. These guys are trying to push their own agendas and everything, so they probably won't even listen to us, no matter what we say. We don't even know how far into the story we are, so we can't work with that either."

"So, basically, we're screwed."

"Yep. Our best bet is to find out what they're going to charge us with, so we can figure out ways to counter."

"And how do we do that?"

None of them had any idea besides asking someone. They sat in thought for a while, and then Sam decided to fill the boys in on what had happened in the story, since they weren't going to get to see it from the beginning.

She told them about how several girls had been dancing in the forest with a slave, and how one girl had fainted upon their discovery, and was comatose for a week. She told them that a girl called Abigail Williams initially claimed that they were only dancing, but later confessed to practicing witchcraft along with several other girls, though only after the adults had pressured them. Because of their superstitious and religious nature, the entire village was now convinced that the "witches" had to confess their sins to drive the Devil away from Salem.

Sam told them how Abigail cried witch on John Proctor, who she was having an affair with, as revenge, and then how he refused to admit to the court that she was faking the whole witchcraft thing, out of shame. The trials began, and anyone who was named, and many were, were thoroughly questioned. Proctor appeared in court and tries to prove that the girls were lying, but Abigail maintained that they were not. Proctor admitted his affair to try to bring Abigail down, but that backfired as well when his wife denied it. Then she cracked under the pressure and named her husband as the Devil himself. Executions took place in the fall, and Proctor died after refusing to confess at the last minute.

"And that's it, guys. No one is really a witch here. They're just trying to get revenge or save others. And they die for it. And the play's as confusing as Technus sometimes, so you probably wouldn't have understood it even if you had read it."

"Hey! I resent that!" Tucker, who had been playing with another PDA, looked up and glared at Sam. She grinned back. Before she could come up with a reply, they heard footsteps on the stairs and the gray-haired man appeared.

"Have you naught to say for yourselves, witches?"

"We're not witches. We're just children. We got lost in the forest."

"Now, now, girl, I know a witch when I see one, and you three are very definitely witches."

Sam sighed.

"Why?"

"You do not dress as God decreed, so are trying to lure the people of this village into lewdness. You appear out of thin air and I have a witness who tells me that arrows do not harm you. And whatever the slave has in his hands is clearly a magical device."

Tucker sheepishly hid his PDA behind his back.

"Due to the pressing situation, I have ordered your trials to take place tomorrow. Enjoy your day." The man smirked, and left them alone again.

"Great. Just _great_. Can this day get any better?" Danny buried his face in his hands. _Maybe this whole book thing wasn't a good idea after all. I've already fought a demon and met Frankenstein's monster, and now they think I'm a witch. I'm not even a _girl.

As the trio were sitting glumly in their cells, a voice spoke up from the shadows of the cell opposite Sam's.

"So, you're the people the town was talking about this morning. You certainly don't look threatening." The voice was proud and cruel, and vaguely familiar. A young woman appeared behind the bars. She was pretty but had a harsh light in her eyes.

"Ember?" Sam asked.

"What?"

"Nothing. You just reminded me of an enemy, that's all."

"My name is Abigail Williams. I'm in here because I've confessed to witchcraft. But you already knew that, didn't you, girl? How is it that you can see the future? Maybe you truly are witches."

"Umm, we're not?"

"But you know of things that have not yet happened. That is surely a sign of a powerful witch."

"They were lucky guesses!" Sam was actually sounding panicked. If Abigail was willing to sell out her friends for her vindication, there was no telling what she would do with strangers.

"They were also saying you appear and disappear, and that you cannot be killed."

"Tricks of the light! Illusions! Nothing real!"

"If you say so. You do realize they see denial as a good sign of a witch, right? And that I 'know' who the other witches are, and they listen to me?" Abigail sounded smug.

"Yeah. Got that part already, thanks." Sam decided to stop talking at that point, because Abigail was certainly more than willing to use anything she heard against them later. Danny and Tucker, fortunately, caught on and did the same.

---

That afternoon, Abigail was led out of the cell by one of the men who had thrown the teenagers in. They took advantage of her absence to plan an escape.

"Okay, so if we go invisible, Danny can fly us out of here. They'll probably figure out how we got out, but they won't be able to find us. If we don't leave, we're going on trial."

"Okay, so once we're out of here, what do we do? You're going to suggest we go to the trial, aren't you?" Sam grinned.

"You've gotta learn somehow."

"You enjoy this, don't you?" moaned Danny. But he did phase them out of the cell and into the church where the trials were held. They sat in an empty pew at the back.

Abigail was on the stand (figuratively, since this was a church), and the gray-haired man was pacing the floor in front of her. Apart from the young girls in the front row, the church was packed with hard-faced adults. The three teenagers watched and listened as Abigail was interrogated by the man and were taken aback by the vehemence of the cries that the girl incited. It seemed like Abigail was casting blame on everyone she knew, just for the fun of it. Eventually she was led away again and a man in his thirties was brought in. He was introduced to the crowd as John Proctor. His grilling was just as nasty as Abigail's had been.

Throughout the entire time, Sam kept having to bite back comments about "independent attitudes," "real witchcraft," and the like. Danny was looking a little unnerved, and Tucker was incredibly bored. They were greatly relieved when a man entered the church and sat beside them and they were enveloped by a familiar purple mist.


	5. Chapter 5

**5. Of Crossing Stars**

_I couldn't resist putting this in here, since it was pretty much a no-brainer. I hope you enjoy it. See previous disclaimers and warnings, and please review! Oh, and a hint, once you figure out where I've stuck them this time, you might want to read the relevant bits of the original text just to see what I've done with it._

Danny and Tucker found themselves standing alone on a quiet street at sundown. The stone buildings were of an unfamiliar style that looked vaguely Mediterranean. A soft breeze blew down the road and carried the scents of flowers to the two boys.

"Sam? Any clue?" Danny turned to look at his friend. She wasn't there. "Sam? Oh no, do you think the Ghost Writer left her out of this one? Or forgot her in Salem?"

"Who knows? But we'd better find out where we are before anything bad happens." They started walking. Danny was finding it really uncomfortable to move. He looked down.

"What the ... now he's playing dress-up?" Danny was dressed in an elaborate black and silver tunic with rips in the sleeves that also showed a silver fabric. He had on a pair of pants that ended just above the knee and ballooned outwards, and tights. They were also black and silver, as were his shoes. Tucker took one look at him and started laughing.

"Shut up. You're not much better yourself." Tucker was dressed similarly, except that his outfit was green and yellow, and he had a red hat with a feather in it. The two friends started walking again, awkwardly, in the direction they had been facing. At the end of the street, people were getting out of carriages and heading into a large, well-lit house at the end of the street. The sound of music drifted out into the street.

"Dude, it's a party! I'm not being left out of this one!"

"But Tucker, we're not invited!"

"Think they're gonna notice us? Come on!" Tucker started running towards the house, and Danny followed. Tucker slipped through the gate, and Danny went after him to stop the trouble before it happened. He caught up with Tucker at a side door and Tucker handed him a slim silver mask.

"Put it on. Everyone's wearing one." Danny decided to humour his friend, and followed him inside. He got separated from Tucker in the crowd and found himself on the edge of the dance floor. His eyes picked out a young woman in a beautiful deep pink and gold gown and a cat mask dancing with a man about twice her age. Entranced, Danny caught the arm of a servant walking by.

"Who's that?"

"No clue." The servant continued on his way.

_She's gorgeous. Way prettier than Paulina. Sam was right, there are much nicer girls out there. What was I thinking? I've gotta have a dance with her. Sam'll kill me if she finds out, though, so it's a good thing she's not here._ Danny started edging over to where the girl had gone. He stationed himself behind a pillar, and when she came near enough he reached out and grabbed her. She gave a startled gasp as he pulled her towards him.

"Oh, geez, I'm sorry to have startled you. Here, um, I'll just, er..." She stopped him.

"Don't worry about it. I think it's kind of cute, actually."

"Really? You do? I mean, great! So, why were you danc-" A large woman seemed to appear out of nowhere beside him. Danny jumped and Mystery Girl laughed.

"Your mother wants a word with you." The girl glared at the woman but moved off, looking longingly back at Danny. He returned the look, and as he was craning his neck to see where she'd gone, Tucker appeared in front of him.

"Hey, dude, I just saw Dash. He headed this way and he looks pretty angry. We've gotta get out of here before he realizes we crashed the party!" He dragged Danny away. "Hey, you okay?"

Danny shook himself out of his reverie.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." _I've got to find out who that girl is. I think she's important to the story, whatever it is. And there was something about those eyes..._ He managed to separate himself from Tucker once they got to the street again by going intangible, and headed back towards the house they'd just left. _I hope I can do this_.

It wasn't long until Tucker realized that Danny was missing. He started frantically searching for him and Danny caught snippets of his cries.

"Danny! Dude! Where'd you go, man! This is crazy! We've got to stick together, here. Hey! I see Paulina!"

_He's getting desperate_, thought Danny. Tucker must have gotten closer to where he was hiding, because the halfa caught a muttered "Oh, right, he's got _ghost powers_. I'm never gonna find him" and a slightly louder "I don't know what you're doing, Danny, but I'll be waiting where we got dropped when you're done."

Danny waited until Tucker had walked off before moving any further. _Hate to ditch you, Tuck, but you'd understand if you saw her._

He realized that he was in a garden of some sort, and that a light was on in the room above him. He quickly ducked off to the side, and before he could move any further, he heard someone yelling above him.

"Argh! It's bad enough that he dressed me in pink for this but did he have to make my room the same colour!" Something shattered against a wall and Danny's Mystery Girl appeared at the door to the balcony.

_Sam?_ thought Danny. _The girl at the party was Sam? _He opened his mouth to say something like "Psst, Sam, it's Danny. What are you doing here?" but groaned inwardly as something else entirely came out of his mouth.

"But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks/ It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. / Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon/ Who is already sick and pale with grief/ That thou her maid art far more fair than she/ Be not her maid, since she is envious; / Her vestal livery is but sick and green / And none but fools do wear it; cast it off."

Romeo and Juliet. _Wonderful. I hope Sam realizes that it's not really me talking. Who am I kidding? Of course she knows. Wait, does she know that was me earlier?_

"Yargh." Sam walked over to the stone railing and leaned over it, sighing in exasperation. Danny could feel another monologue coming, but couldn't stop it.

"She speaks/ O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art / As glorious to this night, being o'er my head / As is a winged messenger of heaven / Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes / Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him / When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds / And sails upon the bosom of the air." _Okay, so what exactly did I just say?_

Sam was looking conflicted. As Danny thought, she knew where she was and that she had to play along, but she'd never been one for mushy sentiment and didn't want to start now, especially if Danny had gotten stuck as Romeo and was therefore down in the orchard somewhere listening. Eventually she gave in. He'd know she'd been forced into the lines just as much as him. And it wasn't as if she loved him or anything, right?

"O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo/ Deny thy father and refuse thy name; / Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love/ And I'll no longer be a Capulet."

_Oh man, her too?_ thought Danny._ Now what? If I can say something original it might break the spell. This must be killing her._

Sam went on.

"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; / Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. / What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot/ Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part / Belonging to a man. O, be some other name/ What's in a name? that which we call a rose / By any other name would smell as sweet."

_So this is where that's from_, thought Danny. _Okay, I'm going to step out there and say "Sam!" That's easy, right?_ Danny walked out of the shadows and opened his mouth.

"I take thee at thy word/ Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; / Henceforth I never will be Romeo." He resisted the urge to bash his head against a tree while Sam fought back a laugh at the look of consternation on Danny's face.

"What man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night / So stumblest on my counsel?" _Like I don't already know..._

"By a name / I know not how to tell thee who I am/ My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself/ Because it is an enemy to thee; / Had I it written, I would tear the word."

"My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words / Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound/ Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?"

"Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike."

"How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore/ The orchard walls are high and hard to climb/ And the place death, considering who thou art/ If any of my kinsmen find thee here."

_I phased through them, of course. _"With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls; / For stony limits cannot hold love out/ And what love can do that dares love attempt; / Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me."

"If they do see thee, they will murder thee."

"Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye / Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet/ And I am proof against their enmity." _That sounds almost like one of Tucker's pickup lines._

"I would not for the world they saw thee here."

"I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight; / And but thou love me, let them find me here/ My life were better ended by their hate/ Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love."

"Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' / And I will take thy word: yet if thou swear'st/ Thou mayst prove false." _Juliet was really desperate, wasn't she? She's barely known this guy for an hour, and now she wants a commitment? _

"Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear / That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops..." _Enough of the mushy stuff already!_

"O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon/ That monthly changes in her circled orb/ Lest that thy love prove likewise variable."

"What shall I swear by?"

"Do not swear at all; / Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self/ Which is the god of my idolatry/ And I'll believe thee." _That has _got_ to be the sappiest thing I've heard in a while._ "Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee/ I have no joy of this contract to-night/ It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; / Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be / Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night!" _And now she realizes she might be rushing into it a little too fast. Good for her._

"O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?" _What, Romeo seriously expects a good night kiss? From Sam?_

"What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?" _I'm not going to kiss him. The Ghost Writer can't make me._

"The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine."

_Well, it's not a kiss..._ "I gave thee mine before thou didst request it/ And yet I would it were to give again." _Really, _really_ desperate. I have to get out of here before we get to all the sugary good-byes. I'll never live it down. Ah yes, trust the clichés..._ Sam grabbed a length of ivy that fell down beside the window and swung herself off the balcony. She began to climb down, and then felt a pair of hands on her waist.

"Let go, Sam, I've got you." Danny made them both invisible and flew them back to where Tucker and he had found themselves earlier. As he'd promised, Tucker was waiting for them.

"Dude, you could have just said you were rescuing Sam."

Danny looked apologetic. _I didn't know it was her when I left. I thought... I don't even want to _know_ what I thought... Change the subject, change the subject... _

"So, where do we go from here? I mean, we're a bunch of teenagers in the middle of a street at midnight. Someone's going to ask where our parents are, or why we're breaking curfew."

_Dude, I doubt they even have curfew here. Oh no, not again._ The Dash look-alike and a boy who looked suspiciously like Kwan were walking down the road, obviously looking for someone. Danny took one look at them and started running. If they had recognized him from the party... Tucker followed. Sam weighed her options, and decided that running in a long skirt was preferable to being locked in a pink bedroom. Once the trio had managed to lose their pursuers, they ducked into an alley. Sam spoke first.

"You thought I was someone else didn't you?"

"No! I mean, um... It was the mask, okay?" _Oh, great excuse, Danny. Like she's gonna fall for that..._

"Or maybe it was the pink..." Tucker was on the verge of laughing. Sam glared at him.

"Not another word. This is _someone's_ idea of a sick joke."

"So, what were you two doing then? Tell Uncle Tucker." He swung his arms around his friends' shoulders.

"Balcony scene." Sam didn't sound pleased.

"You're kidding, right? You two k-" The reply was in stereo.

"NO! It wasn't like that. We never!"

"Okay, whatever you two lovebirds say..."

"WE'RE NOT LOVEBIRDS!" Sam and Danny both blushed furiously. Just because the other one was kind of attractive and they didn't recognize each other at the party didn't automatically mean that they like-liked each other.

Before their thoughts got any further into denial, a shadow fell at the end of the alley. The teenagers screamed, thinking it was Dash or Kwan. The shadow advanced and took on the form of a monk. It pushed back its cowl.

_This is getting a little repetitive_, thought Danny.

It was the Ghost Writer.

"Time to go...," he said.

There was a rush of purple smoke and then the alley was empty.


	6. Author's Note

_I'm still here, guys! My muse has just abandoned me for a while. Actually, that's not true. My muse gave me a bunch of other ideas that I'm up running with and this fic has gone on the back burner (hangs head in embarrassment). But I will get back to writing this story eventually. I promise._

_To my readers: I'm not hurt if you offer suggestions. If you have a book you really want to see, send the idea my way. I do _not_ have the list finalized, even if it may sound like it. My only restrictions are that I have to have read the book or have a pretty good knowledge of it, because I want the chapters to accurately reflect the story, and the books have to conceivably be on a Grade8/9 reading list (so something like _War and Peace_ is out). I also can't afford the time to do every book you mention. But go ahead and make suggestions. I've already had a few that I'm using later on. Just don't be offended if I don't include your pick. _

_That's pretty much all I wanted to say. I'm writing other stuff at the moment, am not inspired to keep going with this story, but will someday, and you're more than welcome to offer suggestions. Oh, and if anyone can think of a way to make _1984_ funny, you might get the next chapter sooner…_


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